


Bouquet of Posies

by beililee (sapphoatsunset)



Category: As You Like It - Shakespeare, Hamlet - Shakespeare
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphoatsunset/pseuds/beililee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Be my posie forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bouquet of Posies

**Author's Note:**

> I am not Shakespeare, nor do I own Shakespeare’s plays, and I am POSITIVE that he didn’t intend for them to be used like this. (I’m sorry, Bard~!)

She found the other woman in tears on the bank of a small bubbling brook—can brooks have banks? Yet, oddly, the tears were ones of joy and she knew then that love had divided the woman in two, the better part of her staying with her man, her stupid, oblivious man.  
  
Rosalind didn’t hate men, but she didn’t have a high amount of respect for them as is, and as she crouched down in front of the pretty young female, she shook her head and sighed. Here was yet another case of a woman not training her man adequately enough.  
  
“What’s his name?”  
  
“Name? His? There is no his, no his, no his.” Ophelia continued on speaking in the beat and meter of a song, and jumped up to grab flowers and dance around carefree.  
  
Rosalind grabbed her wrist and stopped her for a moment, framing the other’s face in her hands. “No, there is a ‘he’ so who is he?”  
  
Pain sparked in Ophelia’s eyes and she muttered, “Hamlet,” dejectedly.  
  
“He was stupid. Stupid to lose a pretty thing like you.” Rosalind paused and kissed her cheek softly. “But so were you. Did no one ever teach you to train your man? Teach him how to stay with you, love you, be worthy of you?”  
  
Ophelia blushed softly at the idea. “No one trains or teaches Hamlet but Hamlet.”  
  
“Then let me teach you.” Rosalind kissed Ophelia’s hand. “Did he ever do that? Cherish your hand like it would save him from the depths of evil and he needed to cling to it desperately?”  
  
Ophelia didn’t really understand, and went back to picking flowers after wrenching her hand from Rosalind’s. There was something about her dance that was intriguing to Rosalind, and the more masculine part of her personality took over.  
  
“Did you like your hand being kissed? Or would you like me to pick flowers with you?” Rosalind was smart enough to know that a brainless girl cared nothing about kisses, and went ahead and joined the other woman in picking flowers, handing a bouquet of posies to her.  
  
Her eyes sparkled at the gift and she kissed Rosalind’s cheek.  
  
“His name is Hamlet. But I’ll call you Posie because you’re so much nicer. Be my Posie forever?”  
  
Rosalind smiled, enamored by the light in the fair woman’s eyes. “Of course. After all, someone must teach you to learn to be cherished.”


End file.
